


Two Souls Falling Upwards

by Blazing_rain



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, One Shot, Romance, no magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blazing_rain/pseuds/Blazing_rain
Summary: Homura Akemi has been traversing an infinite world for as long as she can remember. And for as long as she can remember, she did so alone. There existed no other living beings, as far as she was concerned. It was just her and eternity, and she didn't mind it at all.But when a pink-haired girl turns up all of a sudden, that view changes. The loneliness catches up to her for the very first time."They woke up that cycle, and fell a little further down."
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Two Souls Falling Upwards

Homura Akemi was falling.

The sensation was familiar to her, the usually still air whipping past her ears, black tresses flowing in front of her face like stormy water. To her, falling was a pastime, one she could do without any fear of hitting the ground.

The world she lived in was infinite. There was no other way to describe the white, lifeless void that encompassed everything around her, interrupted only by a building that to her, seemed equally infinite. It was where she was born, but not raised. There was no one to raise her, as far as she knew she was alone, the only living being in the world. She had never seen or spoken to anyone, or spoken at all. She would have deemed it lonely, had she ever experienced something different from it. It wasn’t a bad thing to her, just a fact of life. The same went for the infinite void, the building’s depths and her own existence. All were simply things that existed without reason. If there was a reason, she was not interested in figuring it out.

The same went for falling. It was a strange sensation, she couldn’t describe why she enjoyed it even if she knew words beyond her own name. In the moment that she fell, she felt as infinite as the world around her, an unstoppable force. Infinite, but not eternal. Her falling sessions had to end at some point, if only for her sense of having to stop.

The world was infinite and it was looped. She jumped off the building and some time later she could land on the exact same building. To the left, right, above and below were copies of the building, simply hanging in the air. Those were what allowed her to do what she did free of worries.

She leaned to the left, shifting her weight and changing the direction in which she fell. A moment later, she slammed into the floor, almost as white as the void. The floor did not crack, neither did her bones. The only evidence of her meteoric impact was a soft thump, as usual. Like she barely existed in a world that she barely affected.

She stood up and returned to the building, pausing briefly to gaze at her reflection in the building’s long stretch of windows. She reached her hand out to touch it, as she always did. The purple eyes of the pale girl in the reflection looked back at her, passive and curious. She liked to wonder whether or not that girl lived a life in a world like her own, thinking that the other Homura was just a reflection and fulfilling her thoughts like she did.

Her thoughts were simple ones, ones of seeing infinity. There was no one to tell her what to do and nothing to guide her, so she had made her own goal of seeing this world in its entirety. She had accepted this world as infinite and thus her goal as impossible, but that left it more enticing if anything. She had no way to document anything and she could not remember every room, but even seeing them once was enough for her.

She once more entered the building and resumed her stride. This hall was long and lined with glass windows on each wall, exposing the void and the looped building to her eyes. She never saw anyone in those loops, but traces she left here did appear on the others. She assumed it was a loop of her, in some way. It saved her a lot of trouble at least, so Homura did not think about it too much.

At the end of the hallway was a door, grand and smooth like the rest of the building with a glowing white core. It opened by itself as soon as she came close, letting her pass without issue. The room had not one window, only walls of the familiar white-gray material, hard as stone and uncomfortable. The floor in contrast had become blue and soft. When she took the time to rest, it was in these sorts of rooms, marked with softness and the only other type of life she had ever seen: trees.

The tree, which sat next to a small pond of water, appeared tall with pale white bark and an appearance that was perfectly geometric, much like the square and well-angled rooms she traversed. The roots, branches and even the leaves were all squares and rectangles, to the point where the roughness of the outer bark was the only part that made it seem less artificial. The leaves, groups of bundled-up and fused cubes in a light blue color, did not move or sway. Between the leaves hung a sign of life: A large, blue cube, the size of Homura’s head. It was the fruit of the tree, one that Homura had learnt was edible.

Homura used these trees and their rooms for a moment of rest. She appreciated their comfort, the fruit and the water close to them. She had never felt hunger or thirst, never needed to indulge those feelings, but she was committed to the ritual regardless, for the sake of taste. The fruit had a sweet but tangy taste that stayed in her mouth for a while, a taste she never got used to. She had seen fruits in different colors before, each tasting different. Her favourites were the red ones, with a spicy flavor. The prickly feeling was wholly unusual in a world without any other sort of pain.

She sat down and leaned against the tree, taking slow bites out of the fruit. It had been a long time since she saw a tree and even longer since she took a break. Though she had no need to fuel her body, she did have to rest it, especially after having passed a dozen more rooms than she was used to. Sleeping was difficult with the brightness of the void. Since these rooms were much dimmer, she liked resting here. The raven-haired girl climbed into the tree, finding a comfortable spot on one of the branches were the leaves blocked the light. She had no measure of time here, so how long she slept was no concern for her. Once she woke up, she would have slept as much as necessary to continue.

That was how her days went. She woke up, explored, ate, drank and fell asleep. It was a solid loop that she only interrupted with falling sessions. She got great enjoyment out of it, but lamented her inability to record it. Then again, recording infinity was like catching every raindrop in a rare storm. She’d get far and nowhere at all at the same time. The sensation of having tried was enough for her.

Half of the fruit was finished. She put the other half on the tree’s branches as she climbed into it, saving it for the next waking cycle. It was not long before she made some bedding out of leaves and began a grateful rest, glad to live in this world another day.

* * *

When she woke up, it was a sudden and unusual feeling, not as restful. She almost fell out of the tree, having to cling on to stop something that wouldn’t hurt. She hung on tight and listened.

It was the chiming sound of feet stepping on glass, paced like someone was walking and getting closer.

The sound of a human, a sound she did not make. That idea incited curiosity and fear in her. In all the time she had spent growing up here, not one sound had come from something other than herself and her actions. That meant there was other life here. Life with different intentions and thoughts than her, things she didn’t know how to handle. She took solace in the idea that they probably had good intentions. It was impossible to get hurt in this world, she knew that after her first accidental fall. The possibility that someone would do something to her was low.

It inspired her with enough confidence to peek her head through the leaves, trying to find the source of the sound. She heard the steps closer and closer to the tree, so if she was subtle-

Ah, right below her. A human about the same height as her, probably as just as old. Her hair was short and pink, done up in two pigtails with bands made out of tree bark. Her eyes, which were coincidentally staring right at her, were a soft pink that gave Homura a feeling she didn’t quite understand, though it was familiar. If she knew the words to describe the girl, she would probably have called her ‘kind-looking’ and ‘harmonious’. In the moment, though, she was only surprised by the appearance of the other human and the sudden eye contact with her.

Their gazes lingered on each other for what might have been minutes, both trying to mentally process this situation. Finally, after taking her remaining chunk of fruit, Homura lowered herself from the branch to properly meet the girl. She found it strange, to be facing someone for the first time in her life. She had no idea what she should do, or what she should call her. The pink-haired girl seemed to think the same way, though she looked excited where Homura seemed bewildered.

Names. That seemed like a good start, the thing she had known since she could know. She had never spoken before, but it couldn’t be too hard. In her head, Homura understood how her name sounded. She just needed to breathe it out.

She pointed a finger at herself. “Ho..mu..ra.” She breathed, only audible because of the silence enveloping them. That was her name, the only word she knew. Now, the pink-haired girl knew it too. Her eyes glittered with understanding and she nodded excitedly.

The girl hummed a few times, practicing syllables, before replying with a finger to her head. “Ma-do-ka!” It was louder, if only slightly, with the same breathy tone. She sounded rather enthusiastic.

Her name was Madoka. It was a pretty name, Homura thought. Muted as it was in comparison to Madoka’s, her face was still painted with an obvious smile.

Now that she wasn’t alone anymore, Homura felt the immediate urge to travel through the building with Madoka. It wasn’t like the loneliness had gotten worse, but the lack of loneliness had suddenly grown appealing.

Homura hesitantly reached out the hand holding her fruit, giving the remaining half to Madoka as a sign of trust. Madoka gratefully accepted it, taking what homura assumed to be the first bite of her waking time.

They sat together for a while. Neither of them spoke, as they knew no words. The only sound made was that of Madoka eating her food and the nervous shuffling of Homura’s feet. It was strange yet comforting for Homura to sit next to someone else. She didn’t quite know how to act with other people, but she definitely wanted to try.

Once Madoka finished her food, the two got to their feet and decided which route to take. Madoka knew an unexplored split of the road, one both assumed to go quite far, as endlessly as the ones they came from. Homura had never seen that infinity when she stepped outside the walls, but she knew it was there.

With a few hums and nods the two set off down the hall, looking for more of infinity.

* * *

Travelling with someone else was pretty fun, Homura found. Sure, she had to move at a different pace to accomodate for Madoka, but whatever she felt for that was subdued by the shared sense of wonder between the two. Madoka was much more exuberant in her interest for this world, going from a human being to a raindrop in the span of a second, zipping from corner to corner, to Homura’s continued amusement. Homura, meanwhile, took the rooms in with a quiet type of wonder, wide-eyed and slowly. Madoka liked watching it, even if it slowed them down.

With Madoka in tow, Homura had not taken the opportunity to fall in a while. The existence of another person raised a lot of questions about the falling. She didn’t know if Madoka was on any of the other buildings. Madoka had never fallen before as far as she knew. The girl had been hovering close to her the one time she got close to an edge, so she either didn’t know of its safety or perceived dangers Homura never had. So, she did not take the new risk that came with her drop.

Homura was snapped out of her train of thought by the call of her name. Neither of the two had spoken any words beyond their names. Rather, they had learnt how to speak the names properly, on normal volumes and by calling. They were usually quiet with their voices, Homura cautious and Madoka more sing-song, but this time Madoka was loud and clear. She must have discovered something special.

The pink-haired girl suddenly dashed up to her from around a corner, excitedly grabbing her hand and dragging her along. Homura had learnt to expect this sort of behaviour from her, but was still surprised by the smaller girl’s strength.

The room Madoka had led her to was large, split down the middle by a wide river they couldn't cross. It was a bright purple, roaring as it surged forwards and fell further down. Both sides of the room had a door on their walls, which Madoka was focused on. Homura couldn’t guess what was behind the door that Madoka had found more interesting than the largest river she had ever seen.

Madoka gestured for her to enter, and so she did. What she found was a room with a staircase, both up and down. On both ends she saw a door interrupt the stairs, before they continued. This repeated for a while, but Homura only took one flight of stairs before entering the door, which was on the other side of the room Homura had just left. She had taken the stairs up to make a horizontal movement, to a door she could never have reached.

Madoka waved at her and she shakily waved back. Obviously, she was confused. In her time here, she had deemed that the world functioned on a strict set of rules. This room was the very first time that these rules were broken. How could that be? Had her vision of the world been wrong?

“Homura?” It was Madoka’s voice behind her. She turned around and stared right into her worried pink eyes. Of course Madoka would worry, she had suddenly spaced out. She had seen many weird parts to this world, all of which she easily accepted, but this one was difficult. One change was followed by others, different shifts in the rules she knew could prove dangerous to her and Madoka.

And Madoka. It hadn’t been long since they met, but she had gotten attached to the over-excited girl. Homura put a hand on Madoka’s shoulder and hummed soothingly, assuring her that everything was okay and that she hadn’t just experienced a brief crisis. Madoka didn’t seem to believe her, but went along with it.

Soon enough they were on their way once more, down a hallway on their side of the river. It was calm, Homura had pushed her thoughts away. Across new rooms, she noticed the change in rules become consistent. Once she got used to it, fear became curiosity. She and Madoka knew the space had changed and wondered if it meant something. They would certainly like to find out.

* * *

Madoka and Homura held hands often.

A lot of time had passed since the first rules were broken and the world was intent on keeping it up. Slowly but surely, the rooms became mazes and parts opened up into sudden pitfalls. They started holding hands to keep track of each other, but slowly continued the habit in less dangerous places, as a means of comfort. The warmth of another human’s hands was a strange feeling, but one they could both get used to. Homura at first told herself it was to match their paces, but it didn’t explain to her why they held hands in their sleep, or why they swung their connected arms like the pendulum of a clock. Though she didn’t want to admit it for whatever reason, it was just another one of Madoka’s ‘Happy things’.

Madoka had a certain vision for the world and the rooms they visited, filled to the brim with ‘happy things’. Climbing the highest tree, swimming in rivers and ponds and giving meaning to the grunts they occasionally communicated with. Homura didn’t understand them at first, but could not resist joining her after a while. She was quick to conclude happy things were to Madoka what Falling was to her. Really, the way she felt around Madoka reminded her of falling. An indescribable eternity, a happy sensation of being in tune with something. The way falling connected her to infinity was the way Homura’s hands connected her to Madoka. She wondered if those feelings stacked, if Madoka could enjoy the fall.

She looked at Madoka, who had fallen asleep under the tree. They had found a red one this time, but saved its fruit for their next waking cycle. As had become a habit, their fingers were interlocked. Homura couldn’t quite catch sleep this time though, she was deep in thought about another rulebreak.

It had been in a smaller room, almost boringly empty. The door to the next room had been on the ceiling. She and Madoka had been very confused until Madoka had the weird idea to walk on the wall. And then she did it.

Defying gravity entirely, Madoka and Homura simply set their feet on the wall and walked up, as if the word shifted to let them walk. It was a small thing compared to the ways space had shifted earlier, but it made Homura wonder about the force she was usually so entwined with. Why did she fall down instead of up, anyway? It wasn’t something worth questioning until now. Even Madoka was visibly weirded out by it and she was much more capable of putting up a front than Homura, who was more rigid in her beliefs. Gravity was the most fundamental rule to both of them, so she understood why Madoka broke the facade. It was undeniable how unsettling the feeling was. Both had eventually recovered it into a new sense of curiosity, but it had shaken their worldview. Homura had started to think that these rules being broken meant something about their position in the world, like they were getting closer to something. It was an errant thought, one she didn’t share with Madoka. Sharing something as complex as that didn’t work without a vocabulary, and it didn’t feel like she had tol. They’d figure it out at some point.

She shifted herself a bit closer to Madoka, resting her head on the pinkette’s shoulders, in the crook of her neck. To her surprise Madoka reacted, shifting her head slightly to give Homura more room and wrapping her right arm, previously intertwined with Homura’s, around the raven-haired girl’s shoulders. Homura soon did the same, smiling at the new sense of warmth. Another happy thing Homura added to the list.

* * *

Homura and Madoka rarely ever spoke to each other.

They had made up the words for it, meanings ascribed to their various grunts and hums. It was enough for a few different sentences, but they communicated more easily without words than with them, only using their vocabulary to call from a distance or describe things the two hadn’t seen. Names were the thing they said the most.

“Homura?”

The duo had been amidst this wake’s dinner, eating the fruit from a green tree when Madoka spoke up for the first time in a few cycles.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“‘Love’? New word?”

“Yes! Means, ‘like a lot’.”

Homura smiled. Of course Madoka would think to give such a thing a special word.

“I see. Then, I love you too.”

Madoka grinned, nuzzling her cheek in response. She had a feeling that word would be worth repeating.

* * *

A few cycles and more ‘I love you’’s later, they found themselves on half of a bridge. The other half was too far away to jump towards. Madoka was confused, not seeing a way to reach the other side. As Homura thought, she had never jumped. Now was her opportunity to show the falling to her.

The purple-eyed girl squeezed Madoka’s hand, catching her attention. Then, she walked towards the edge of the bridge. 

“We jump. Is fine.” She said, keeping eye contact with Madoka. After some hesitation, the pinkette nodded. She trusted Homura.

One step forward, then another. Under them the abyss peeked out, the same buildings and bridges coming back over and over. To Madoka, they were meant to be unreachable. To Homura, it was just another fall. She took Madoka’s arm and put it over her shoulder, while wrapping her own around the girl’s waist. Then, she jumped.

Madoka squealed, as she expected, and squeezed her eyes shut. Homura smiled, glad to be falling and aimed at the other half of the bridge. They had to pass ten copies before landing with the same thud she always knew, hundreds of meters down. When Madoka opened her eyes, she found the girl she loved with a smile on her face, holding her and humming soft approval.

For a while after they were simply sitting there in silence. Homura combed her fingers through Madoka’s hair, humming what we would call a song. They only knew how to comfort each other with their presence, with touch and sound. Madoka had described this specific hum as calm before, so Homura had memorized it for her. As Madoka’s quick breath slowly returned to a normal pace, Homura was happy she had done so.

“You… like falling?” Madoka asked later, under a purple tree. She sounded hesitant, confused. Homura ruminated on her few words a moment before answering.

“Yes. A lot.”

“So you love falling.”

“No,” Homura refuted. “I really like falling. But I love you.”

Madoka giggled, snuggling up to Homura and nuzzling her cheek like she had made a habit of doing. “I love you too.”

* * *

The next waking cycle, it was raining. Homura and Madoka enjoyed the rain. It was rare, but when it came the sky grew a pretty shade of gray and the world was surrounded with a gentle, constant pitter-patter. Madoka loved the rhythms and the change of the sky, a reminder that nothing resisted change. It meant the world was just like her and Homura, oh so lovely. Homura meanwhile, liked it for the tranquil, infinitely-falling water and the way it felt on her skin.

Homura was tempted to go falling because of it, but Madoka was content to cuddle with her as they laid listening to the rain, making up a little song to go along with it. Homura honestly didn’t mind, she had associated closeness with Madoka to falling after all. And if she wanted to go falling, she would have to take Madoka with her, for sure. That was rather difficult with how conceptually mortified the girl was of it. So, instead of figuring that out, she leaned a bit closer to Madoka and closed her eyes, listening as the girl devised a new melody.

Madoka remained more aware, thinking. She knew that falling was safe and she knew Homura liked doing it. With the wistful look she had given to the outside, she probably wanted to go right now. Madoka had no clue why Homura liked falling so much. She already got dizzy when she looked down. Her head went completely crazy when she actually fell. Despite that, she wanted to understand. Homura had kept the word ‘love’ for her alone, but Madoka could tell that she felt a similar way towards falling.

She shook Homura out of her sleepiness and pulled her up, humming for her to follow. Homura did so, confused but happy to go along. This confusion mounted when they stepped outside, the mild rain tapping the both of them. Only by the edge of the building did she get what Madoka wanted.

Madoka smiled softly at Homura’s hesitance and surprise. She knew Madoka was scared and probably didn’t want her to do something she didn’t like. Madoka shook her head, wrapping Homura up in a hug. It was time for her to see what it felt like to fall.

Homura hugged her back and they fell into it, like a daydream.

Neither could tell how long they fell. That was never important, anyways. At first, Madoka was afraid. The sound of the air whipping at her ears was loud, Homura’s hair blocked her vision for a second and the amount of rain seemed to increase. At the same time, she relished Homura’s touch, the warmth and stability that came with the fall. In that moment, she had an understanding of why Homura liked falling. Each room they traversed had a beginning and an end, a finite point. In this fall there was a beginning, but the end was their choice. In that sense, their feelings and their thoughts had become infinite, greater than the world. Homura always seemed nervous when the world played tricks on her, like she was being controlled. To have this sort of power over that world was probably very liberating to her.

Homura, meanwhile, learnt how Madoka felt about falling, if only briefly. In this instant, though she felt her familiar eternity, her grip on her loved Madoka grew tight. It felt like losing that grip meant losing Madoka as well. She knew it was unlikely, and that catching up wasn’t hard, but she felt differently. That had to be the fear Madoka felt when she saw the depths.

The two kept falling, forever, long and short. They were locked in an embrace that slowly melted their worries away until they were truly infinite. There was nothing else, just her and Madoka. Homura and her.

She leaned forward just a bit, touching Homura’s forehead with hers, as if to transfer the thought ‘I love you’ right into Homura’s head.

Neither could remember when exactly they stopped falling. They didn’t really speak of it either, letting the silence of the fall leak into their smiles. They understood now, and found it beautiful.

* * *

It didn’t take long before they touched foreheads often. It was a quick reminder, a way to say ‘I love you’ without the burden of speaking.

The rules had broken more and more, shattering like glass. The couple had floated, been frozen in time and fallen upwards. Unimaginable forms hung in the sky, monoliths made of many different forms. They saw what they assumed to be creatures flying through the sky in flocks, colors similar to their cubes and trees, but in creatures that looked like they were folded out of these fruits. It hadn’t rained since that day, but they still fell often.

Both were excited by the shifting rules. Infinity was more fun when things changed, they learnt. They still hadn’t formed a goal or destination beyond each other’s company, and they did not mind. Being with each other in the infinite world was all they could ask for.

They had not been in an actual ‘room’ for a while now. The journey had taken them across long walkways, staircases, shrines and towers, traversing platforms and wheels without walls or ceilings. On the horizon they had seen something new, something dark. Madoka thought it could be an end point, while Homura assumed it was just another changed rule.

Madoka did believe in the infinity of the world. She had told Homura that before. The building was infinite too. But she also believed it couldn’t be the only infinity. There had to be a point where there was another one, another start. Homura, in contrast, saw this one infinity as absolute, with no place for anything else to exist. They agreed to disagree, knowing there was no point to argue.

At the very end of their route to the darkness stood an unusual tree. Its bark was still white and its angles were still geometric, but its leaves moved with a non-existent breeze, more alive than any of its kind were before. From its branch hung a single fruit, dark in color. Madoka and Homura could tell it wasn’t edible from a glance, but knew it was meant for something like a key needing a keyhole. Upon approaching the tree the sky grew darker. It was grey, but it didn’t rain.

Madoka climbed onto Homura’s shoulder to pick up the fruit. Normally they would take a break here, but with the darkness only a few meters away, shrinking as they stepped closer. At the very center was a hole in the ground, shaped like the seed. A place for it to grow.

They nodded at each other, making an immediate agreement. Madoka placed the seed in the hole and covered it up. Her and Homura’s hands interlocked as they watched it. Not a second later it started growing. A massive tree was the consequence, unlike any they had ever seen. It grew many fruits of colors they recognized. Their reds, yellows greens and blues, the oranges and purples from every morsel of fruit they’d eaten through their cycles. Then there were black fruits, like Homura’s hair, and pink fruits like Madoka’s.

The fruits started falling down. They grew ripe and plunged into the voice, where they hung still. There were no loops or repeats. Instead, the fruits gathered and formed into a shape neither Madoka nor Homura had seen before, that of a circle. The circle was absolutely massive, in many different colors that flowed into each other like nothing they had seen before. The inside of the circle lit up in a shade of white that lent nothing from the light of the void. It wasn’t just different, it was more.

There was no sound in that moment. Not their breaths, nor their heartbeats. It was a tense quiet, as they deliberated a fall even Homura felt nervous about.

They turned around and sat down under the tree. Once again snuggled up together, they bumped their foreheads for what felt like it could be the last time.

“I love you, Homura.”

“I love you, Madoka.”

They woke up that cycle, and fell a little further down.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> First try at romance, pretty happy with it. What did you think?


End file.
